Desiree of the Daleks
by Akktri
Summary: Part human. Part Dalek. All woman.
1. Chapter 1: First Date

I am a Dalek, and I am a woman.

I am beautiful.

They created me to kill, but I was born to love.

That's what I tell myself because I'm terrified.

A girl who has fought against entire armies. Terrified. Of a man.

A man she loves.

I stand on the sidewalk outside a restaurant, inhaling the wonderful aromas of melted cheese and garlic and fattening meats immersed in tomato sauces.

Taking out a small hand mirror, I do a last minute check. I only have one eye, but the eyeliner and eyeshadow _do_ seem to enhance the appeal, I think. The foundation, the facial makeup, it was hard to match my color, but I think it also looks nice, but my pink lipstick stands out a little too much.

Those are the parts I could fix. There wasn't a lot I could do about having a brain on the outside of my head, or the tentacles. I tried foundation and some other things, but it didn't work. The last thing I want to do is make myself look like a greasy clump of fried calamari.

I take a deep breath, but I think I'm hyperventilating.

A human male.

A man.

Asked _me_, a human Dalek, on a date.

I stand by the glass door of Palazzo Pitti Italian Gourmet.

My first date. Ever.

Tonight, these legs, which have once snapped men's necks, are weak and shaky.

I nervously clutch a brass door handle with the mitten-like fin that serves as my hand, my sleek pink pumps clunking heavily on the hardwood floor as I step inside.

It's an elegant establishment. Tables with long silky green table cloths, beautiful framed landscapes of Italy, mosaics, marble statues and a fountain. I can imagine Cupid hiding behind the statuary.

A second later, a pretty little twenty year old blonde waitress tries to usher me to a table. I ask if my..._boyfriend_ is there, but she only gives me a blank look, suggesting I might want to wait at a table until he shows up.

There weren't any reservations, I guess.

She leads me to one of the smaller corner tables, beneath a large framed mirror that makes me uncomfortably self conscious.

I get some water, and I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

It's now over an hour since I first arrived. Everyone is staring at me.

A creepy old guy with a white mustache gawks at me from a table adjacent to mine. He's dining alone, and really weirding me out. I find myself reaching for a nonexistent weapon to exterminate him with before I realize I'm unarmed.

A fat woman and her little boy gawk at me from the table opposite. I used to fire at people like this, simply because they stared, and I couldn't cope.

Right now, I wasn't sure I _could_ cope.

The shame! The absolute shame! A Dalek making herself vulnerable, and letting a pathetic human crush her emotionally!

I frown sadly at the jade colored tablecloth.

"He stood me up!" I whisper, my heart full of bitterness and dejection. "I knew he was too good to be true!"

I break down and cry. I'm sure my mascara is smearing, but that doesn't matter anymore.

I order breadsticks, eating them without joy, food consumption as an emotional outlet.

A few minutes later, I hear my cel phone ringing.

Okay, so it's really a broken Motorola I use to conceal the fact that my left hand can send and receive telephone signals, but let's not split hairs. It has a phone number.

It's him. I can tell by the glowing numbers on my palm.

I come close to letting it ring and go to my illegally obtained voicemail account.

You stood me up, I thought. Why should I listen to your lame excuses?

If you don't want to be seen with me, just tell me. Don't play these stupid games!

But I answer, heart pounding, part of me not so angry as desperate.

"Hello?" I stammer.

"Desiree?"

It's him, all right. This had better be good!

"You've sure got some ner-!"

"Dez! I'm over at Mizzios," he said. "I've been waiting for an hour! Where are you?"

My face flushes a solid purple in embarrassment.

In a squeaky voice, I reply, "Um, somewhere else?"

"What are you doing over there?" he asks.

Being a total idiot, I thought. You memorize the floor plan of a Cyberman battle cruiser but you can't figure out something as simple as the correct name of an Italian eatery? "I...don't know."

"Well then. Come over here. It's lonely sitting at a table all by myself and getting stared at."

"Tell me about it," I mutter, frowning at Mr. White Whiskers. I wasn't sure what was worse, the old man being disgusted, or the old man being over his disgust and admiring my legs. I shudder.

Robert doesn't hear me, apparently due to the noisiness of the other restaurant. "What?"

"Nothing," I say. "I'll be over in a few minutes."

A second after I hung up, I hear the sound of glass and metal being smashed. When I look up, I see a chrome machine with tentacles destroying my car.

An army of the things are filing down the street, demolishing vehicles and obliterating innocent people with blasts of shrapnel. The front of the restaurant explodes.


	2. Chapter 2: The Gems of Skaro

The moment I saw my car being demolished, and the storefront exploding, I went into battle mode, bolting over an empty booth and out the red metal frame that once held a plate glass display window.

I left the amount of $2.75 at the abandoned register, of course, to pay for the breadsticks, plus tax.

The street was crawling with shiny metal robots, towering chrome machines with enormous heads covered all over with mechanical eyes. Metal tentacles lashed out from their cylindrical bodies, destroying everything in their path.

The Dominators.

Quarks.

The worn enemy of the Daleks.

I stretched out my palm, pointing it at the wreckage that used to be my brand new Chevy Impala. The claims adjuster would want to see this, and the creature that demolished my vehicle.

My `phone' was ringing again. With a thought, I took the call on one of my head tentacles.

"Hey," Rob was saying. "It's me again. I was just thinking that maybe I could order for you, so that once you got over here, the food would be ready."

I smiled. "That would be nice!"

And I wrenched open the battered lump of metal that used to be my trunk.

"What was that?" he said.

"Oh, my car just got demolished by a Dominator. They're attacking people and destroying everything on the block. I don't know if I can make it." I dug a cylinder shaped device out of the wreckage, a Dalek Disruptor Cannon. To outsiders, it looked like a fancy type of light fixture, but it had powerful destructive capabilities.

A normal Dalek has to plug this type of weapon into their armored chariot in order to use it, but mine operates from the electrical energy in my body. All I have to do is plug a few cords into sockets in my arm. Of course, I was going to be ravenous by the time I reached the restaurant.

"Should I just get the food wrapped up to go?"

I thought about it for a moment as I opened fire on one of my enemies. Its crystalline head exploded like a hand grenade inside a chandelier, the pieces dripping with the slimy guts of the tiny green creature that piloted it.

"I guess you could..."

He sighed.

I blasted another one. "I'm really sorry. It's not like I planned it this way..."

"I understand," he said. "You're a Dalek. Things happen."

Still, he sounded disappointed.

A panel on a Quark whipped open, and a rain of hot shrapnel sprayed out. I dove behind an overturned bread truck.

"I just need to exterminate a few things," I said. "You know. Protect a few humans."

"You want me to come over and help?"

I blushed. Would that be weird? Starting off a date in a war zone?

No. I couldn't.

He was just a man. He'd probably get killed.

"That's sweet of you," I said. "It really is. But it's too dangerous."

"More dangerous than our little escape from Skaro?"

And he really wants to put himself in danger again, I thought.

Rob used to be an astronaut, working with a geological survey.

His team had landed on my home planet in search of valuable ores, not knowing it was inhabited.

As they stood on the lifeless rocky surface of Skaro, a small division of Daleks in their gray armored chariots surrounded them, opening fire. Under the barrage, his team of ten was reduced to four men and one woman.

My people drove the survivors into a cave, a catacomb-like maze of caverns filled with centuries worth of discarded genetic experiments, most notably the silicone based alligators and the giant flesh eating mollusks.

One by one, the creatures picked off the members of Rob's team until only he remained, staggering aimlessly through tunnels, blinded by animal venom.

The man stumbled right into our base.

He could have been killed. Outside the entrance of the base, the man was on his knees with six disruptor barrels pointed at his head, but fate is strange, and the wrong things kept coming out of his mouth.

"Please," he had told them. "Put me out of my misery."

There's nothing a Dalek hates more than being told what to do by someone other than a commander.

So their metal eyestalks swung and looked at each other.

"You killed everybody. I have no family left. My girlfriend left me for another man. My ship's inoperative and I can't see. I'm never going to get off this planet, so why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

They didn't like that either. In fact, they each retreated a foot.

"Please," Rob pleaded. "Have mercy. If there's any kindness in you at all, please, end my life!"

Daleks are trained from birth not to be merciful.

The leader of the group, Dalek 8882159, flatly said no, we don't do requests.

Dalek 8881599 declared him prisoner.

And they bumped their chariots into the blind stumbling captive to corral him into the base.

In the meantime, I had just returned from a successful invasion of the jungle planet Pandora, exterminating most of the lifeforms and establishing a base.

Since my presence there was redundant, our position well fortified, I was sent back to base, much to my disappointment. It was a beautiful world.

The date Robert arrived, I was standing in one of our conference rooms, a chairless concrete block lined with weapons cases and electronic wall maps.

I and the other male and female human hybrids stood in perfect formation, clad in identical black and silver jumpsuits, waiting as our unit commander assigned us new duties.

Dalek Commander rolled back and forth in front of us in his white chariot, that speckled machine bearing a strong resemblance to a pepper shaker I've saluted twice since early childhood, giving us our tasks, ranging from the glorious to the mundane.

I watched as my fellow clones were dismissed one by one, dozens of them sent away to battles in far flung reaches of space.

The military assignments ended, and the maintenance duties were announced. Chariot assembly and repair. Wiring and electrical work. Weapon manufacturing. Nursery duty. You know, for more clones and new Daleks.

With growing uneasiness, I watched as more and more of my associates were dismissed to their various tasks. A human Dalek who has no assignments is traditionally one slated for execution, due to defect or failure at their duties. I hoped it would never come to that.

At last the Dalek Commander rolled up to me, focusing the lens of his eyestalk on my person.

"Unit 92419901," he said, the lights on the top of his vehicle's dome flashing as he spoke.

I wilted under the cold stare of his metallic eye lens. What had I done now? How had I failed the Great Dalek Race? I trembled as I forced myself to keep looking into the lens.

"You are a very versatile clone."

"Thank you, Dalek Commander," I blurted, flushed with nervous dread and desperate hope.

"For that reason, I am giving you a special assignment."

My heart was beating faster now. What tremendous honor did the Dalek Commander have for me?

I didn't even wait to hear what it was. "Thank you, Dalek Commander!" I cried. "I will not fail you!"

The lens narrowed. "You haven't even heard what it is yet."

I paled. "No, Dalek Commander. But whatever it is, I will perform the task to the best of my abilities."

The Commander seemed displeased by this display of emotion, but let it pass.

"We have a unique prisoner in holding cell 1357," he said. "This creature has aroused our suspicions by volunteering to be exterminated instead of fighting or trying to escape."

"Dalek Commander," I said. "Request information on why the units that captured the creature did not honor its wishes. It sounds like an inferior being that deserves extermination, and would do the Dalek Race a favor by volunteering. Please clarify."

"It is suspicious!" Dalek Commander snapped. "One does not volunteer for such a great honor! How do we know it isn't a trap! I want to know his motives!" He waved his disruptor cannon threateningly. "I want information! Interrogate the prisoner! Do what you can! Find out what he wants and report back to me!"

I saluted him. "Yes, Dalek Commander!" and I marched out of the room.

The prison complex was a series of concrete cubes buried deep below the planet surface. The air was always filled with the smells of antiseptic and the sounds of screaming. The former was to protect other Daleks from contaminants, but I suspected it to be the reason why we never had much success with prisoners. Too clean.

The prisoner's cube was identical to a hundred others. Hard uncomfortable sleeping bench, toilet free from dangerous loose pieces. The diagonally cut bubble patterned metal paneling around the entrance served no purpose. Modernistic architectural flourishes were one of the few artistic indulgences Daleks allowed themselves.

The man was lying on the bench, appearing to be staring up at the ceiling. He was a handsome young brunette, his build slim but muscular, his chin rounded, but not grossly so. His gray jumpsuit was dirty, and he hadn't bathed since he got there, but it wasn't exactly his fault.

"Hello," I smiled. "I am Unit 92419901."

"Is that the name you call yourself, or is that what they tell you to answer to?"

His question caught me off guard.

"What?"

He rolled over to face me, and I saw that his eyes were pure white. "I've never known anyone who likes answering to a number."

"I..." I stammered, then I reasserted myself. "92419901 is both what I call myself and what they identify me as." With a little too much hesitation, I added, "I like my number."

He chuckled. "What is this, `Good Cop, Bad Cop'?"

"I don't understand," I said.

"They sent in a male last time. He roughed me up."

So they sent in Unit 92000050, I thought, somewhat troubled. What possible good could I do if he had failed?

"The guy tortured me. Grilled me for information, but refused to kill me. Now they send in you, with your cute little voice. What's your angle?"

"Cute?" I repeated, and I found myself blushing.

I've been called many things in my life. Dependable. Strong. Detail oriented. Model Dalek. Never _cute_. What did that even mean?

"I was sent here to gather information," I said.

"You won't get that much," he shrugged. "I'm just a surveyor. We were checking this place for valuable ores, but I didn't find any Now that I know who lives here, we definitely won't be doing any mining."

So that explained that, I thought. But I figured Unit 92000050 already knew this.

"Why did you ask Dalek 8882159 to kill you?"

He sighed and rolled over. "Because maybe I don't want to live."

"Why?" I persisted.

"Because maybe I lost my whole crew, I have no one left, and I'm blind."

That was fairly self explanatory, I thought. And consistent with the reports.

"So that's the whole reason why you surrendered to us?"

The man shrugged. "Perhaps. Or maybe the real gems were down here the whole time, and it took me being blinded and captured to uncover them."

My face and tentacles were turning a completely different color. "You're...talking about...me?"

"I diamond in the rough," he smiled.

I laughed. "You think I'm a gem."

"It never hurts to flatter people," he grinned. "In fact, sometimes they surprise you by proving you right."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you could see what I look like," I said.

"Why? Aren't Daleks supposed to be superior in every way?"

And then, as an afterthought, he added, "You _really do_ have a sexy voice."

Part of me wanted to run screaming from the cell, but a Dalek is taught from a young age to never show fear to an enemy.

Still, my voice trembled as I cried, "You shouldn't say such things!"

"Why?" he said. "I'm not afraid of dying. _Or_ saying what I think."

My head tentacles burned with embarrassment. "I think I've heard enough."

But I wasn't sure I had.

I quickly turned and marched out of the cell, shivering as the man chuckled softly behind me.

It was only when I returned to the conference room and stood before the Dalek Commander that I realized my mistake. I had gathered no useful intel. Nothing at all.

"Well?" the commander demanded. "What have you learned? What data have you collected about the human?"

"I..." I stammered. "That is, the human, he is...very..."

Handsome?

Romantic?

Friendly?

I desperately scrambled for the appropriate words, but all that came to me were adjectives that made me sound weak.

"...strange," I finished lamely. "I...I think, when the creature blinded him with poison, it may have also affected his judgment."

There, I thought. That explains everything. Dalek Commander will be sure to understand.

And then I thought about it some more. What if this is my one opportunity to speak with this strange man? Get to know him? I had to say something or I may not ever see him again.

"He's a surveyor. They were trying to mine the planet for gems..." I blushed. "I mean, _ores_. But he's..."

I realized the foolishness I was about to say before I said it. The man hadn't found any gems at all!

"Unsuccessful, and our forces have convinced him not to want to mine here."

To my absolute shock, the Dalek Commander said, "Excellent work, Unit 92419901!"

My heart pounded nervously. "Thank you, Dalek Commander."

I cleared my throat. "Dalek Commander, I think we may get more information out of him if we can cure him of poisoning. The toxin appears to be affecting his thought processes."

The commander's lens narrowed, but he said, "Take a sample of the toxin to the lab. I will order Dalek 8885915 to synthesize an antidote."

I tried to hide my elation. "Thank you, Dalek Commander." It almost came out as an exclamation.

But as I marched down the hexagonal corridor leading to the prison compound, I froze, thinking about what would happen if he had his vision restored.

Right now he didn't know about my single eye, my exposed brain, or my tentacles. I was just a normal woman. It made me feel beautiful.

Would he feel the same when he could see again?

No, I told myself. No one but other Daleks place value on our aesthetic appearance, and love doesn't enter the equation.

A tear rolled down my cheek, but I wiped it away before anyone could see this sign of weakness.

I thought I was okay for a moment, but then I started thinking about how close I had come to experiencing true human love, and what it would mean to lose it, and I found myself slumping against the wall, staring absently at the floor.


	3. Chapter 3: Blind

I guess I was supposed to go to Dalek 8885915 and get tools to create the antidote, but instead I selfishly procrastinated, marching back to the prison.

I guess, if I were honest, I just wanted to hear him call me sexy again.

Nervously, I crept into his cell, admiring him in silence.

He must have noticed my footfalls and my breathing, for he sat up, patting a spot on the bench.

"Don't be shy. Have a seat."

"How did you know it was me?" I asked.

"The others aren't afraid of me. They don't care what I think. They do what they want, say what they have to, and go on their way."

"I'm not afraid of you," I stammered.

He grabbed my left flipper, gently running his fingers across the scaly ridges.

I stood up so fast that I hit my head on an overhanging concrete shelf.

"You okay?" he asked when he heard me uttering curses.

"Yeah," I mumbled, backing away a step.

He chuckled. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone."

I blushed. "Thank you."

"You're a very unusual girl," he said. "Those hands..."

"I'm a cloned human Dalek hybrid," I said, wishing I didn't have to tell him.

He grinned. "Nobody's perfect."

"Actually," I began.

"I know. The Daleks are superior. But you're not really acting like you believe it."

"I don't know if I do," I whispered to myself.

"What?"

I swallowed. I couldn't repeat what I just said. What if someone was watching?

So instead I told him, "There are few lifeforms other than Daleks that appreciate our beauty."

He patted the bench. "Then have a seat again. I want to see if _I_ can appreciate it."

"How can you?" I asked. "You can't see."

"I still have hands. I haven't been blind very long, but I think I can figure out some things just by touching them."

That seemed a little too forward for comfort. "Excuse me?"

He laughed. "Forgive me. I'm not doing _that_. I just want to touch your face."

"I don't know..." I stammered.

This was going to ruin everything. I was sure of that.

"What? Are you afraid?"

I stepped closer. "...No."

"Do you doubt that Daleks have superior beauty?"

I trembled. "Um, maybe?"

He just gave me a warm smile. "I like to think I'm open minded."

When I hesitated, he said, "C'mon. It can't be that bad."

And so I reluctantly sat down.

The man's hands poked at my waist, my shoulders, and he fumbled his way around my face.

"Whoa!" he laughed. "You're right! You're hideous!"

I was so heartbroken that I let out a sob, shrinking away from him.

"No no no!" he chuckled. "It was a joke! Come back! I was only teasing!"

Wiping away a tear, I nervously crept closer, allowing him to touch me again.

"I refuse to call you a number," he said as he touched my cheeks, drew his fingers around the shape of my chin, my jaw. "Surely there's something better we can use instead. Something that reflects your personality. Something more _you_."

"I...I don't know. I've never been asked that before."

"Hmm..." His fingers wrapped around my tentacles.

The sensation was oddly arousing, so much that I had to resist the urge to put his hands back when he withdrew them in surprise.

He got over his initial shock, and I let out a shuddering breath as his fingers played with my tentacles again, then slid between them, caressing my exposed brain.

"You don't strike me as an Amy or a Jill or a Karen..."

I stammered something, but had no ideas.

The feel of his hands on my head like that, it was electrifying, erotic. My legs were trembling.

He frowned, but didn't show enough disgust to stop.

"What if I just call you Dee? Or Deedee?" He slid his hand down the front of my face, over my single eyelid, my lips, my chin, and down my neck. "No...that's just silly. I can't call you that."

He snapped his fingers. "Desiree. Kind of ethnic, but it's fun. I guess I really haven't captured your character though..." And he was thinking again.

I thought for a moment he would go further, touch me somewhere lower below the neck, but he pulled away.

He didn't look exactly happy, but thoughtful.

"I like Desiree," I blurted. Maybe it was due to how much it sounded like _desire_.

He clapped his hands. "Desiree it is! Though I think it'll probably have to stay as a secret between you and me for the time being. No offense, but your comrades seem a little uptight."

I chuckled. "Maybe a little."

We were silent for awhile.

"You're certainly a unique woman," he said at last. Then he was quiet.

I hesitated to even ask him what he thought.

"Is that really your face?"

"Yes?" I said, feeling like my heart were about to break.

At last he said, "I like you. And you're the only friend I've got here. Who cares what you look like?"

It sounded like he were trying to convince himself of something.

Now I really didn't want to ask him what he thought of my appearance.

I, a Dalek, was afraid.

Of rejection, of all things.

He reached up, wrapping a tentacle around his finger. "These are interesting. I like them."

"Sir," I shuddered. "I'd rather if you didn't do that."

He let go. "Why?"

"Because," I said. "Although pleasant, it produces a sensation in my body I am not comfortable with."

Now he was chortling.

"What," I frowned.

"Nothing. I'm just trying to imagine you getting _comfortable_."

My face suddenly felt very hot.

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" I blurted, mostly to defuse these confused and conflicted emotions I was experiencing.

"I think you might be," he said. "It's..._exotic._"

This made me almost giddy with happiness, though I internally knew that, without his sight, a number of things could seem beautiful without actually being so, a trick of the overactive imagination.

I wanted him to touch me again, or maybe kiss me, but I thought it improper to ask.

He picked up my flipper and kissed it.

"As I said before, you are unusual. But everything's unusual the first time you notice it."

An awkward silence fell between us.

"So," he said. "Tell me something about yourself."

"There's not much to say," I answered. "I'm a clone."

"Well, then, tell me something about your life anyway. I'm sure it's more fascinating than mine."

I laughed. "I doubt it."

Then I sighed and shared a little.

About how the Dalek commander was like a father to us all, and how I had to fight my close childhood friends to the death to please him.

Robert shook his head sadly. "And I thought I had it bad when my father got drunk and slapped me around!"

"Sometimes he _did_ exterminate one of us indiscriminately." I said. "And the second in command, Human Dalek Supreme, the leader of the human Daleks, he did beat us from time to time. Of course, a lot of that was training..."

"I didn't get much training out of mine," the man said. "Would have been nice." He sighed. "Do you travel much?"

"Some," I shrugged. "I have conquered many worlds. Some of them are very beautiful."

I told him about the jungle planet.

"Sometimes I am sorry to see such beauty and intelligent lifeforms exterminated. I have to tell myself we purify the universe from imperfections by doing this."

"Nonsense," the man said. "Uniqueness is what makes people special, beautiful even. If everyone in the universe was a gorgeous supermodel, no one would want them."

I didn't disagree. In fact, the philosophy he spoke made my heart pound with excitement. I was afraid to say anything, or I would have. Instead, I told him about the beautiful sights I had witnessed, ice volcanoes erupting on Yitguja, oort clouds swelling with rainbows of colors, strange flowering plants that crawled on the ground with their roots wiggling in the air, sea-like deserts full of rugged beauty.

"That sounds amazing," the man said. "I have always found beauty in the oddest of places, even in lands where others see only ugliness. Even here, when I could see."

He sighed, falling silent for a long time.

I was about to go, but then he said, "My mother used to paint. I think I had a painter's eye. I think, if I ever got my sight restored, I might try my hand at it again. The play of light on simple things like rocks...it's all beautiful."

I found moisture pouring from my eye. I was glad he couldn't see it.

But then he said, "Your people. They can clone things, right? You think they might be able to somehow _graft_ me some replacement eyes?"

Now I was actually crying, and he could hear me.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be sad, miss! I've already seen a lot of wonderful things in my life. I have decided to be content with that. And I will be happy simply to escape this place and go home, or at least die with your kiss on my lips."

That statement made me incredibly happy and bitterly sad at the same time, for I had the keys to his misery, and they were the same as the keys to my joy.

I really started crying then.

Before he could attempt to comfort me, I got up and marched out of the cell.


	4. Chapter 4: 8885915

If there's anything positive I have learned from being a Dalek, it's that you've got to make sacrifices for the greater purpose.

I sighed as I walked down the corridor, away from Robert's cell.

I just barely met him. It shouldn't mean anything to me.

I'm a Dalek. This shouldn't bother me.

He is a breath of fresh air, I thought. Someone like him comes along only once every thousand years, of that I was certain.

Or maybe I was just getting too attached to our prisoners of war.

There was a mother and child a few months ago. I watched the others kill them. It was supposed to make me less sensitive to exterminations, but it only broke my heart.

Tears fell from my eyes as I continued on my way down the corridor.

I was going to lose him.

Room 330 could only be described as that.

It was not a hospital, because we tortured and tested prisoners there, in a Nazi-ish Mengle-like fashion.

It was not a true science lab, because, in addition to the torture, Daleks also received medical treatments there.

But yet there was chemistry and electrical engineering being done. All in one place.

The walls were filled with meticulously organized racks of chemicals, and any conceivable scientific or medical device. Robotic arms brought down whatever tools Dalek 8885915 needed, so that he never had to ask for help.

Rows of examination tables and work tables occupied the floor. The rest was plain concrete.

One end contained a small morgue filled with the bodies of our enemies, which we often experimented upon, and later threw into the caves to eat or get eaten by other beasts. There are dozens of apes with human brains running around down there.

Or, at least, there _were_.

8885915 had a bright aqua colored vehicle with a tie dyed pattern. He says that it used to be blue and he got attacked by a chemical grenade on one of his war missions, but I suspect he only got attacked by a custom auto body coloration specialist. The black sense bubbles on his chariot weren't even touched. I wouldn't have been surprised to see flames on the sides.

He had cameras on each side of his eyestick, so the vision of the creature that piloted the machine would never have to worry about impaired vision.

"I require a syringe," I told 8885915. "I have authorization from Dalek Commander to synthesize a compound to cure our prisoner's eyesight."

It felt awkward, so I added, "To aid in the interrogation."

"I have received the authorization," 8885915 said. "You are late."

"This strategy is a last resort," I blurted. "Was attempting to extract information without this procedure."

8885915's eyestick bobbed up and down.

"Command approved," he said, making whirring clicking sounds.

The odd thing was, he made those sounds _with his mouth_.

Regardless of the eccentricity, the machine arms obeyed, and after a few minutes of grinding across tracks along the various cabinets, a syringe was dropped into my flipper.

"Your assistance is appreciated, 8885915," I said.

"You are welcome," he replied.

As I turned to leave the room, he asked, "Are you..._fond_ of this prisoner?"

I blushed hotly. "...No. Of course not."

But, not wanting to do Robert harm, I added, "Just the same, I would like to have his vision..._intact_ for questioning."

"Yes, yes," 8885915 said with a chuckle. "Would you also like me to operate on his brain so he will appreciate the first female he sees?"

Tempting.

I blushed even deeper. "I...no. That won't be necessary."

"You could have him as a pet..."

I shook my head violently. "No. Thank you."

8885915 chuckled. "You are weak, 92419901."

"It's Des-" I stopped.

"What?"

"Nothing," I stammered. "I am definitely not weak. This is merely an _interesting experiment_, and I shall be fascinated to know what will come of it."

And I stomped away.

As I'm leaving, I hear him laugh and call out to me.

"Don't get sent to the Dalek Asylum!"

The tears I cry then are out of fear.

How does he know?


	5. Chapter 5: Assistant

I hurried back to Robert's cell with the syringe, my eye staring into every crack and crevice along the way to see if a camera were there.

Of course there _had_ to be a few hidden somewhere. I was foolish to think that things could be otherwise. Daleks prided themselves on their surveillance machinery. That's how they caught that female astronaut a year ago. Took her brain out, stuck her in a Dalek body, and wondered why the resulting `soldier' kept rambling about egg souffle and her boyfriend. All because of a camera.

When I entered that cell again, I thought about them..._watching_.

Wiping my eye, I seated myself next to him on his bunk, clearing my throat.

"This is going to be a little..._uncomfortable_."

Robert chuckled. "You're at last going to profess your love for me?"

I blushed. "..._No_. You _do _realize we're being watched?"

"So if they weren't..."

I elbowed him. "It's too dangerous!" I hissed.

"For you, or for me?"

I swallowed hard. Why must this man keep showing me how cowardly and selfish I am? Why!

Instead of answering, I said, in a more audible tone, "We're working on an antivenom. I need to stick this needle into your eye to collect samples of the poison."

With a sigh, he calmly laid down on the bunk, arms hanging loose, ready to let me do my work.

I guess the proper term for the device I held was a `syringe unit', for it came with spare ampoules and needles. I knew how to use it.

As a child, I have had extensive lab training. It's what they had me doing before I developed enough to become a killer.

I found the injection site with ease, filling an ampoule with milky white fluid. I drained some more from his other eye as well.

Two eyes...I loved the symmetry of it. He had an actual _nose_ instead of a bump. His arrangement worked because of the overlapping fields of vision. I was almost envious.

The man's eyes watered, filling with enough fluid to replace the poison.

I frowned. "We'll get your eyes fixed soon enough, Robert."

He smiled. "You're a doll."

I backed away from him.

I guess he could hear my footsteps, for he said, "They talked to you, didn't they?"

I nodded, but realized that he couldn't see it, so I muttered, "Yes." And I hurried away.

The moment I backed into the hallway outside the cell, I bumped into another human Dalek, a gray eyed female with figure eight patterns of freckles on her tentacles. Other than those few minor cosmetic differences, she looked exactly like me.

Unit 92419902.

She grabbed my syringe seconds before it broke open on the floor.

"Dalek Commander said you were having trouble with the prisoner. I have been sent here to assist."

I snatched the syringe out of her flippers. "I require no assistance. The operation is going exactly as planned," I lied. "Interrogation techniques have been a success. Once the prisoner regains his eyesight, full disclosure of vital information will be imminent."

Her eye narrowed, mouth turning downwards in a frown.

"If you fail, Unit 92419901, _your demotion_ will be imminent. I have been briefed as your replacement. Keep that in mind, 92419901."

With that, she swung on her heels, marching away.


	6. Chapter 6: Belle at the Ball

I waited impatiently in 8885915's chamber, watching him process the serum. I must have stood in the at-ease position for twenty minutes.

As a rule, Daleks don't have chairs. It is a sign of weakness to require seating arrangements. Standing builds your leg muscles.

"The cellular structure of this venom is fascinating," 8885915 was saying. "I believe it derives from one of our plant-animal hybrids. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it came from Subject 14905-7222 or 223. Rather hardy reptilian genetics in that one. We intentionally designed its poison to be incurable, but I do love an impossible challenge. Unless, of course, I'm completely mistaken and this is simply venom from a 7111."

I just stared at him, watching in silence.

"Tell me, 92419901. Are you familiar with the story of _Beauty and the Beast_?"

I swallowed. "I'm familiar with the _title_. Why?"

"A handsome prince is transformed into an ugly mutant, but the kiss from a non-mutated female is enough to reverse the transformation, and they become a family unit."

"That's..._interesting_," I said.

"92419901...which character do you think most accurately portrays yourself? Beauty, or the beast?"

"Neither," I blurted.

8885915 laughed. "I thought you might say that. You are afraid, for if you say `the beast,' it would imply weakness, that you think yourself repulsive, and not the most superior lifeform in the galaxy.

"But have you considered yourself as being the beauty in this tale? Why, you have, within these very walls the machinery in which to transform the man you cherish so dearly into something more, a Dalek Prince Charming, if you will.

"Just say the word, and I will add some extra chromosomes to his antivenom, and you will have your prince, your happily ever after. Alive and well, and fighting by your side."

"Thank you," I said, barely repressing my disgust. "I will definitely consider it."

"Just not now?"

I shook my head. "Not now. Maybe later."

"Very well," 8885915 said with a chuckle.

Another awkward silence. I practiced some martial arts techniques to kill time.

At long last, the antivenom was prepared.

Sort of.

"As stated previously," 8885915 said. "Subject 14905-7222's venom was intended to cause incurable blindness, so this is essentially a god creating a boulder that he or she cannot lift. Dalek superiority defeating itself, when Daleks are indefatigable." Snickering, 8885915 said, "Perhaps it is good that no Daleks are gods."

He handed me a syringe loaded with ampoules of blue liquid.

"This is only a partial cure. He will see only in black and white, but at least he will see."

I nodded, but before I could walk away, he added, "Oh, and he may experience some unusual skin coloration."

Then 8885915 handed me another syringe set.

"What's this?" I said.

"Something to disrupt the tracking sensors. To aid in your escape."

I took it, staring at him in shock.

"Good luck, _beast_," he said.


	7. Chapter 7: Antidote

I pocketed the syringe, staring at 8885915 with uneasy suspicion. Did he really want me to escape with this human, or was he only doing this as a trick, to get me in trouble with my superiors?

But if it wasn't a trick...

If it wasn't, we'd be able to run away from there.

I don't know where. Maybe a cave, but _somewhere_. And maybe, just maybe, we'd be able to sneak out on a ship together...somehow.

"Thank you," I said. "I..."

I faltered, wavering between a hopeful compliment and a suspicious accusation. "Thank you."

And then I hurried away, to Robert's cell.

The man smiled as I stepped through the door. "You're back?"

"How did you know it was me?" I asked.

"You sound like a baby deer that's just learning how to walk. You're the only one that sounds like that. Your sister doesn't hesitate at all. She just marches in with her cattleprod and jolts me when I don't say what she wants to hear."

"92419902 has been here?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "She told me she was your replacement."

I swallowed. "I got something for your eyes. Just hold still and let me inject it."

Rob laid back on his bunk, surrendering to me.

I loaded the syringe, bringing it to one of his eyes. "I warn you, this isn't going to be comfortable."

He chuckled. "I'm sure it won't."

He winced as I injected the needle into the area around the eye, depressing the plunger. As I did this, I whispered, "I have a plan for getting you out of here."

"What makes you think I want to leave?" he muttered back.

I withdrew the empty syringe, refilling it with antivenom. "I'm going to have to do this one more time."

Rob made himself still.

"The longer you stay here, the more chances they'll exterminate you," I said.

"It's been a good life."

I injected the serum. "It could be better. _With me. Out of here._ _With your sight._ You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That sounds...wonderful," he said as I emptied the syringe into his eye. "When can we start?"

"As soon as your eye heals."

"You really think they'll let that happen?" he asked.

The thought made me sad. "I don't know. But I'm hoping they will."

He sat up. "Can I touch your face again?"

The Dalek side of me said no, but my human side eagerly grabbed his hands, pressing them to my face.

"Beautiful," he muttered as he touched me.

I shivered, longing to utter things a Dalek would never say..._and do forbidden things_.

"You will not like me when your sight is restored," I said. "Your wild imagination is painting a portrait I can never live up to."

"You're a cyclops," he said. "_I can live with that._"

"You crazy human," I whimpered, wiping away a tear. "You get some rest. After we get your second injection, I'll get you out of here."

"Desiree," he said. "Can I kiss you?"

I shook my head violently. "No. Someone will see. I'm sorry. We can't take that risk."

"It sounds like you're not totally _against the idea..._" he said with a grin.

Blushing, I whispered, "Affirmative. But not here."

He grabbed my flipper and squeezed it. I smiled a little, squeezing back without thinking about it.

I pulled away quickly, backing to the door. "Tomorrow I'll bring your second dose. Just rest for now."

I departed from there, stepping into the hallway.

Little did I know, my clever plans were not to be.

As I was locking the cell door, I noticed 92419902 marching toward me with a laser cannon on one arm.

Alarmed, I cried, "Wait, where are you going with that?"

92419902 gave me a nasty smile. "There's been a change of plans, 92419901. Your human prisoner carries no significant information, so he is now scheduled for extermination."

With my heart thundering in my chest, I stepped in front of 92419902, blocking her path. "Over my dead body!"

She raised her weapon, pointing it at my head. "So you're aware of my second objective!"

"Orders from Dalek Command?" I said. "Or yourself?"

"This time it's both, 92419901." She warmed up the laser. "_It is such a pleasure to serve._"


	8. Chapter 8: Prison Break

I didn't know if 92419902 were telling the truth, but it didn't matter. She was going to kill Robert if I didn't do something. I'd have to get him out of here now, cured or not, and somehow find a way to safety, away from all the Daleks, away from my people.

I had no clear plan to get him out of there. I was still in the early stages of planning. But I had signed my death sentence the moment I stepped in 92419902's path.

I wrenched the disruptor cannon out of the way before she could vaporize me, hitting her in the face with the butt. Nothing special, just basic martial arts training.

She came back with some moves of her own, throwing me to the floor, firing a shot at my head that would have killed me had I not rolled away.

I swept her feet out from under her, attempting to snatch the weapon from her. Instead grabbing it, I ended up knocking it away.

She grabbed me by the throat, shoving me into a wall.

I kicked her in the crotch.

She tore at my head tentacles.

I clawed at her eye.

We scuffled in this style for over a minute.

Just as I thought I was getting the upper hand (or flipper, if you want to get technical), I suddenly see 92419902 dive for the weapon, pointing it at my head before I could make another move.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," she growled.

As she was activating the firing mechanism, the lights went out.

"My vision is not impaired!" 92419902 cried, but a moment later, I saw a laser beam shooting off in an incorrect direction.

When the lights came back on, I noticed a pair of human hands around her throat.

Somehow, someone had deactivated the locking mechanism to his cell.

"Hurry, Dee!" he cried. "Stop her!"

92419902 elbowed him in the crotch, turning the disruptor on him.

"No!" I screamed, charging at her, but it was too late.

I saw a flash of blue light, then heard a scream.

92419902 collapsed on the floor with a gaping hole in her chest.

Robert, gasping and panting for breath, arose from the concrete, weapon in hand.

"How'd I do?"

I ran to him, throwing my arms around him, kissing him on the lips.

He pushed me away. "We should go."

"You can't see yet!" I protested.

He nodded. "It doesn't look like I ever will. Not fully, at least...which way is out?"

"The walls are weak around sleeping quarters," I said. "But there are too many Daleks around there. Plus we'd have to go through a busy training center."

"I thought you had a plan," he said with a smirk.

"It all depended on us going at a specific time," I groaned. "After I'd worked some things out. I didn't have time to work out all the details."

"I thought Daleks were supposed to be superior to other lifeforms." He was smiling as he said this.

"_Sometimes we are_," I said, hot with embarrassment.

"It's okay to make mistakes," he said. "It's _human._ How about the place where they dump the experiments? Trash can't be guarded that carefully, can it?"

"You're right," I said. "And we can grab weapons in the room next door."

I frowned. "But that place is next to our training center. Someone is sure to find us."

"_Many_ someones," Rob grunted.

He pointed down the hallway. "What's all the way at that end?"

I sighed. "That's where they put newborn Daleks into machines."

"_Babies_," he breathed. "Sounds easy enough. We can probably find a way out through their abortion machines."

"We don't abort Dalek fetuses," I said. "We just drop the defective ones down a chute into the caverns."

"Sounds like a crowd of kids I'd like to meet," he joked.

Suddenly I had a vision of he and I living together, caring for those abandoned creatures. The thought made my legs tremble.

"Wait," I said. "That's perfect! We'll go through the dump chute!"

With Robert's hand clutching my flipper for guidance, we ran down the tunnel, pausing only when we heard the screams.

"What's that?" Robert said.

"Hurry or you'll be joining them!"

I pressed my flipper to the door at the end of the corridor, but it refused to open.

"I think they know," I said, blasting open the door control plate.

I knew exactly how to cross the wires to open the hatch. In a few seconds, we were in the Dalek machine room.

The room was filled with gray metal Dalek shells, covered all around by shiny black sense spheres. They stood like statues, pointing their disruptors straight ahead, their darkened grills and randomly flickering dome lights giving no indication whether any of them were occupied.

"Whoa," Robert breathed. "Are those alive?"

"You can see them?" I asked.

"They're just dark outlines, but yes."

The eyestalk on one of the machines raised up, pointing at me. Its disruptor followed. "Unauthorized method of access. Explain!"

"Panel is inoperative," I said. "Removed panel with disruptor and rewired the interior."

The Dalek processed this. "Why did you not use regulation tools?"

I blasted its head open, grabbing Robert's hand. "Let's go."

We ran through the tight rows of machine shells.

After going a few feet, I heard a mechanical voice yell, "Stop! Defective unit! Remain stationary to await extermination!"

I blasted that one too, but more came to take its place. As I dodged, laser beams ricocheted off random shells, causing things to explode and catch fire.

I broke through the security lock on a panel at the end of the room just as a group of Daleks and human Daleks began to file in through the other hatch I couldn't close.

The Dalek nursery was a humid, foggy sort of factory. It worked rather like an assembly line. In the rear, pipes full of chemicals pumped into mechanical wombs, where the Dalek larva incubated until it was time to expose them to the outside air, send them down a conveyor, and place them into their training compartments, simulations of their future vehicles.

A mechanical arm dropped down from the ceiling to remove the simulation failures. Even as we crept through the room, it was at work removing the imperfect ones.

When I saw it drop one of the struggling creatures down the chute, I pointed and shouted, "There!"

"Where?" he said, mystified.

I led him ahead.

Our pursuers had entered the chamber, but they moved with caution, withholding their fire to avoid hitting the infant Daleks.

It was a tight fit, but we managed to squeeze inside the chute.

The chute was chrome, with a trap door to prevent unwanted visitors. As we approached, the automatic cover was sliding closed, a double protection against invaders. It would only open again if the mechanical arm came back around.

As quick as I could, I pushed Rob in first, firing at my pursuers as I jumped in afterwards.

We slid down a metal tube, into a dark cave, landing on a massive squirming mound that wailed helplessly beneath our feet. My heart broke to see all those discarded Daleks. I picked one up, crying as I gently stroked its exposed brain.

"We have to do something about them," I said.

"Like what?" Rob asked. "I wouldn't even know how to raise one...Plus there's a whole lot of them."

I put the infant down. "You're right," I sniffed, wiping my teary eye. "Our priority right now is getting us out of here alive."

"I suppose we could manage _one_," he muttered. "If it makes you feel better."

"It would," I said, picking the little one up again. "We can try."

I handed him the weapon.

With the baby in one arm, and Rob's hand in the other flipper, I ran through the cavern, anxiously searching for signs of danger, Dalek or otherwise.

The tunnels were winding, dripping with slime. The most bizarre looking variety of creatures shadowed us, part human, part animal, part Dalek. All different. Nothing at all like the homogenized beings I spent every waking hour with. They stalked at a wary distance, neither attacking nor going away.

We turned a corner, and things got silent, our deformed pursuers at last fading into the background.

At first, I thought it meant something very bad for us, like running face forward into a Dalek trap. But I knew our traps, and this wasn't one I was familiar with. IT appeared that we had just stumbled upon a safe, secluded area.

We stopped to catch our breath.

Seeing a flat shelf, I set the baby down on it. It seemed okay for the moment.

If we could only escape this place safely...and find some way off the planet...

In the dim light, I could see Rob smiling at me. I smiled back.

And then, it was as if something inside me just snapped, and raw emotion took over me.

With thoroughly un-Dalek-like abandon, I pulled him close to me, viciously attacking his mouth with the most passionate of kisses.

His eyes widened with shock, arms flailing around like he were about to fall over, but then he closed his eyes, grabbing me possessively as he kissed back.

I heard a distorted grinding, tearing sound, and the entire cavern filled with light.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a blue wooden police box materializing out of nowhere.

Robert pulled his lips away. "Well that's new!...Another Dalek invention?"

I just rolled my eye, shutting him up with another kiss.


End file.
